Dunnies to Dolmen

Chateau Gontier

Our usual views of lakes, beaches, castles and other gorgeous sites was usurped a few nights ago when we stopped in the village of Vihiers only to be welcomed with a stunning view of some urinals.

Distant dunnies

It was only for one night, for obvious reasons, then we headed to Chateau Gontier (sung to the tune of ‘Tarara Boom Dee Ay’) and had a lovely river view that was only marred by an evening of several chaps on two-stroke motorbikes whizzing around Dickie until the gendarmes came and scared them off.
Fougeres, a medieval city in Brittany, was calling next.

Wonky house

Fairytale castle of Fougeres

Church colours

We enjoyed a stroll around the town which actually had OPEN shops after 2pm, checked out a couple of massive churches, and wondered about living in the medieval village at the base of the magnificent chateau which was, of course, closed. We decided that, although they look lovely, it is likely that they would be cold and dark so we’ve decided against selling up and moving into a 12th century house in France.
We’ll stick to the van for now but at the moment it’s getting harder to find water. The French tend to turn the usual camping-car water filling stations off at this time of the year due to the cold. We did find some today after a few fruitless stops but it meant we got to check out some rather cute villages along the way to our current stop, Dol-de-Bretagne. At Bouzages La Perouse we came across a maison des voeux (house of wishes) and a grave with the campest statue we’ve ever seen, and at Sougen I had a minuscule chat in French to the coach of the local football team.

Strangely camp gravestone/statue

House of Wishes

Come in, my pretties

Tomorrow we will visit the tallest dolmen in France.

Super Sights

Dolmen de Confolens

We weren’t expecting the sight that greeted us at the entrance to the cemetery at Confolens. As fans of megaliths we heard there was an interesting one there and, good grief, we were shocked when we saw this massive stone sarcophagus carved with dragons sitting on top of a dolmen. The tomb is for Cecile Crevelier who died in 1884. Her husband, M. Gontier, either loved her a lot or was a very superstitious man.

We’d spent the previous night in Nersac. Being too late for lunch at Le Ponte De Meure was not a problem for the patron of the restaurant. His wife had the idea of doing us a takeaway which turned out to be a three course meal for 13 euros each. Unfortunately we were talked into a bottle of wine which we discovered, too late, was 28 euros so it turned out a little more expensive than we expected. Oh well, the homemade endive salad, cassoulet, and plum cake was particularly yummy and we didn’t have to eat again ... until next time.

Food for days

Last night Hugo was thrilled to spend the evening in an actual house when we visited friends, Steve and Cathy, who were kind enough to cook us dinner. Luckily they love dogs and weren’t upset even when he sang along to the ringing of the telephone and attacked their neighbour. (Don’t worry, he barked but didn’t bite.)

Will I ever see the inside of a house again?

Our hosts

Bellac is a pretty hillside village with, of course, a lovely church, a river that floods occasionally, and a lively artistic community. We worked up an appetite on an uphill walk there before our yummy dinner at our host’s house. who doesn’t love goat’s cheese in puff pastry, chicken and rice, more cheese, and chocolate cake. Hugo was particularly keen on the chicken skin.

Bellac

This morning we strolled around the church of the amusingly named St Hilaire in a nearby belle village. Impressive misericords peeped out from the choir stalls and we enjoyed a 14th century Madonna and child and a naive statue of St Hilaire himself.

Like a Virgin

St Hilaire (ious)

Misericords

I’m ready for my closeup 

The gang 

Thanks to Steve and Cathy for their fabulous hospitality.

Santiago, Swans and Seaplanes

Clear skies at last

As we drove through the Spanish Pyrenees to St Jean Pied de Port we noticed a few pilgrims emerging from the fog as they walked along the Camino to Santiago. It reminded me of the fluffy one  appearing out of the fog as I met him in Roncesvalles after the first leg of his walk 16 years ago. He chose February 16th, my birthday, to head off on his walk so the weather was actually worse than this. I hope they make it to the end because I would not last a day walking in this.

Through the reeds

It feels like the fog has followed us all the way from Bragança until we arrived by the lake here in the French village of Gastes today. The sun is shining and boats are pootling around between swans, fishermen, and the occasional seaplane that has been keeping all of us visitors amused during the day. Hugo has enjoyed a few swims in this relatively balmy 15 degree temperature as well.

Modelling the new shoes

Swan Lake

Dickie does Aquatic

As I’m sitting here in Dickie the sky is turning a soft shade of pink and the temperature has dropped to 13 degrees. Time to get the heating on and plan tomorrow’s stop. It looks like an ornithological park on a lake about an hour away. Sigh.

Hot pink action 

A Foggy Farewell to Portugal

Farewell Portugal 

Any hopes of achieving a successful Veganuary have disappeared on this trip. It seems almost impossible to get anything vaguely Vegetarian let alone vegan. Yesterday’s chickpea stew came with a great big pork bone in it and my estofado de Cordero had lamb in it! (Chortle)

Meaty

Spain arrived through our window two days ago as we drove through heavy fog to Villarda, a village on the Santiago de Compostela route where Graham had stayed when he walked it 16 years ago. Unfortunately all the churches and pilgrim related places were closed.

Hot fog action 

Hola Spain! ... again

It’s not a pretty village, it’s certainly seen better days, but there was a market in the morning where I could rootle through some fungus-fuelled mandarins to select a couple of edible fruits.

The only exciting thing to photograph in Villarda

The water tap had frozen overnight so we couldn’t fill up. Disaster. Not really: we managed to fill the tank very slowly from a half frozen hose at a petrol station nearby. There are few things less exciting.

On the Compostela

Today we arrived in Pamplona through even more fog and the fluffy one managed to purchase two pairs of shoes at a non-charity shop. A real feat - if you’ll pardon the pun.

Hugo enjoying the ‘Running of the Bulls s’ monument

The Aire here seems safe enough but we’re surrounded by about 20 homeless people hanging out on the benches in the corner. We probably won’t go back into town again just in case.
Tomorrow, Roncesvalles.

A Chilly Dickie

 A touch of colour on a grey morning

What a shocker to wake up to zero degrees this morning. I suppose that’s what comes from parking by a lake in the middle of nowhere. We’ve had days of sunshine parked up by a sparkly fairytale church

Sparkly church 

(where the fluffy one reversed into a tree), a pootling river, and a sanctuary of the virgin -

Sanctuary at Oliveira de Azeméis 

of course.

A Snuggly Dickie

A chilly lake

A place for water nymphs

We are in Bragança in the Trás-os-Montes area of Portugal today and the fog is well and truly coming down from the mountains. Last night we were alone by the Baragem (dam) Azibo. It was quiet and, not surprisingly, watery. When we arrived in Bragança today we were the first ones here. Now there are about a dozen other vans but we don’t care as we have had yet another of our most fabulous meals on the trip so far just inside the walls of the old city.

Castle walls

Supposedly Iron Age boar with 15th century pillory

If you ever find yourself here go to Tasca Do Ze Tuga for a traditional Portuguese meal of octopus, pork, or (as our French neighbours had) wild boar stew.

More dragon/octopus

Who knew olive pie could be so yummy

Tomorrow - back to Spain.

Mist and Monastery

Spooky Jesus

We fought off the urge to add to our glow-in-the-dark Virgin collection and drove on past Fatima to the UNESCO World Heritage Monastery at Batalha. The monastery is worthy of a gasp and a ‘wow’ as it comes into view and it doesn’t disappoint when you get inside. The stone pillars are covered in cute faces and leaves and the archways of the ‘incomplete chapel’ are intricately carved. I was tempted by a Virgin in a snow globe but at 10 euros I decided to go for a cock on a post card instead for 75 cents.

Now that’s what I call a hand basin

Teeny leaf

Teeny face

Massive monastery

If you’re ever in this town you must have a meal at El Burro Velho. It’s by far the best meal we’ve had on our trip so far. I even liked the Marcelo, or. ‘Blood sausage’ which has never been on my radar before. The fluffy one ate what seemed like an a entire octopus while I chowed down on garlic prawns followed by seafood spaghetti. More prawns!

No, it’s not a dragon

You CAN come the raw prawn with me

The weather has been fabulous despite a little fog in the morning at the lake but today the clouds are coming in so we’re heading north to make our way home over the next four weeks. Sigh.

Tippy toe

Early morning mist